


dreaming in the dark

by lemonheadlester



Series: bingo fest [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Disease, Dreams, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 08:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonheadlester/pseuds/lemonheadlester
Summary: His best friend came to him after a bad dream and now he’s about to learn something strange about him.





	dreaming in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 2/4 of my fics for the bingo fest
> 
> Prompt: bed sharing

He can't breathe.

Under the weight of the smoke, he gasps for air, the fire denying him such a basic need.

He has no memory. Not of how, nor why he is here. All he knows is that one moment he was safe in his warm apartment, and now he's here. Trapped under the collapsed roof. He calls for help, for anyone who might be there to save him.

He's only met with the sound of sizzling flames.

He cries out again, vision going hazy. He can't die, he can't.

What he doesn't understand is the fact that he's, well,  _cold._

Then as soon as he comes to the realisation, the fire's gone.

~~~

He jumps, now sat upright in his bed, legs tangled in his duvet. He connects all of the dots and realises he was dreaming with a sigh.

He slowly slips out of bed, adjusting his annoyance of a bedhead, dark strands flying everywhere while he makes his way to the bathroom, eyes wide and swollen red. He must have been crying a lot.

Ice cold water rushes over the dry skin on his hands, where he makes a cup shape with his fingers and splashes his face, cleaning it of all the sweat and dried tears. He then fills a the glass he uses to wash his mouth out after brushing his teeth and fills it with more water, drinking it in big gulps.

He sets it down with a relieved "ah" and hesitantly turns on the lights. He knows it will make his headache worse, but he has to do this before he forgets.

As his eyes squint in a reflex to the painfully bright lights, he slips his shirt off, noticing the immediate response of pain settling in his arms as he lifts them. He can see they're bruised. His friends always said he was a restless sleeper.

Then he examines his front, then he turns to see the backside. Everywhere. The burns and bruises are everywhere.

Damn his disease.

His heart stutters in his chest when he turns back around, looking the damage over carefully. He feels tears stirring up in his eyes.

He stares into the mirror for a few more seconds, as if the reflective glass was hypnotizing him. He turns away as soon as he sees a tiny spark, right in the bottom left corner.

Taking in staccato inhales, he leaves. He doesn't even bother to turn off the light behind him.

He makes his way down the hall. He doesn't know what he's planning to say or do, he just let's his instincts take control. He's had enough.

He opens the door to his best friend's room.

He's usually one to stay quiet, especially about this. He has a fear, not just of this  _thing_ in his head, but of what his friend's reaction will be. He's afraid of losing the only person who could still make getting through each night worth it.

But he has to know. He'll find out eventually weather he likes it or not.

His friend has no idea what he's had to deal with, but tonight that's about to change.

Because he's already knocking on the open door, limbs shaking and cheeks wet. It feels like his insides are closing up.

His friend instantly sits up, gesturing for him to come to his side, hugging him.

"What happened? Bad dream?" He asks, brushing flyaway hairs from the sweaty forehead from his shivering roommate.

He just shakes his head, avoiding eye contact. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

His friend smiles sadly. "Of course."

He asks no further questions, letting the shivering boy curl into his arms. His friend is understanding, as post and concerned as he his.

After he settles into the warm embrace, he bursts into tears.

His friends faces drops from concerned to worried, sighing the wrinkles in the back of the crying boy's shirt with the palm if his hand.

He just cries until he can't anymore.

Then when he's had time to calm down, there in each other's silent presence, he sniffles and finally makes eye contact with his friend.

"I'm scared." He admits, a tiny hiccup escaping him.

"Why're you scared?" His friend asks. "It was just a dream."

He shakes his head. "No. You have no idea."

At first, his friend is officially confused. That is, until he sees the marks on his arms. His friend is now a mixture of lost and alarmed.

"Who did this to you?" His friend demands in a shivering voice, wide eyes scanning over what he'd so easily missed earlier.

"N-no one. It was the dream." He stutters, letting his secret out just like that. "It's been like this my whole life. Whatever happens in my dreams, it happens to me in real life. I know you don't believe me but I swear-"

"I believe you." His friend stops him and his rambling, hugging him. "I saw it happen once, I just didn't want to believe it at first.

He gasps.

"What? When?"

"One night about a month ago." He friend specifies. "You'd screamed so I came to check on you, but you wouldn't make up. I think a cried when your knuckles started bleeding."

His friend's eyes start to tear up at the memory. He just false into his arms again and showers him in apologies.

"Is it bad I can't even remember what dream that was?" He asks. "God, I'm an idiot. I was so scared to tell you."

He rests his head on his friend's shoulder. He won't sleep, not unless he feels safe.

And he isn't, not from a mind was dangerous as his. Still, his friend makes him feel the most secure he has felt his whole life.

"Don't be scared, Okay?" His friend assures him. "I'm right here."

He tries to thank him, but he can't seem to force the words out of his mouth. His lips are still quivering even in the aftershock of the dream.

He still feels breathless, overpowered and quite helpless, but a part of him calms by the sound of his best friend's voice, the sound of someone who would never leave him for anything.

He notices crickets outside the window, closing his eyes and letting out a long exhale through his rosy nose. He hasn't even registered the fact that he just dropped so much on his friend, and he doesn't seem to mind. He's actually sleeping with him, and that hasn't even crossed his mind. It will in the morning.

For now, he looks at him sleepily and fondly, words groggy as he says in an exhausted voice.

"Goodnight, Phil."

He thinks he hears "Goodnight, Dan." As well, but he's too far under the blanket of unconsciousness to confirm that. For the rest of the night, he drifts, not a single nightmare bothering him for the first time in a while.

Maybe his dreams won't get the best of him after all.

~~~

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr @lemonheadlester


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